Shall I Compare thee?
by BlaiddDrwg30
Summary: While detectives Alec Hardy and Ellie Miller race to discover the identity of a killer who has rocked the small coastal town of Broadchurch, Alec finds that his health and his past failings are causing him to slowly unravel. When he begins to spend time with the kindly bookshop owner, Alec discovers that while there is life there is hope...and love. Rated for sexual situations.
1. Chapter 1

**How can you watch Broadchurch and not want to write copious amounts of fanfiction about healing the sweet and insufferable Alec Hardy? I couldn't resist. ;) Hope you guys like it!**

 _"Shall I compare thee to a summers day?_  
 _Thou art more lovely and more temperate._  
 _Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,_  
 _And summers lease hath all too short a date._  
 _Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,_  
 _And often is his gold complexion dimmed;_  
 _And every fair from fair sometime declines,_  
 _By chance, or nature s changing course, untrimmed;_  
 _But thy eternal summer shall not fade,_  
 _Nor lose possession of that fair thouowst,_  
 _Nor shall death brag thou wand rest in his shade,_  
 _When in eternal lines to Time thou growst._  
 _So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,_  
 _So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."-Shakespeare_

...

 _"I hate it. I hate the air, I hate the sand. I hate the stupid people. I hate the way they work. I hate their bloody smiley bloody faces. I hate the never ending sky..."_

...

She absolutely loved it here. Moving to this small secluded town was one of the best descisions she had ever made. Fresh start. New beginning. Creating a new life for herself surrounded by a safe and loving community. Bliss. Although...she frowned in consertation. Things hadn't been so great lately. For the first time in the towns history, there had been a murder. The death of young Danny Latimer had shocked the sleepy town down to its core. She bit her lip. Just thinking about how much sadness Danny's family was feeling made her want to cry. She wiped the counter down again even if there wasn't any dust. It felt better to be doing something rather than nothing, she supposed. She just felt so helpless, like there was nothing she could do, and that was one of the worst feelings in the world.

She could remember as clear as yesterday when she had moved here. A different country, all on her own, just enough money to get started on her dream, not knowing whether she would fly or tumble to the ground. Many times when she was discouraged or worried, it had been the kindness of strangers, of the townspeople, that had kept her going. That gave her the motivation to keep going. And now look how far she had come. It had been five years, and her buisness was still afloat. It had been hard. Really hard. She had had to work her ass off, but it was completely worth it to get to where she wanted to be. She wasn't rolling in the money, but she made enough to pay her bills and live comfortably. That was all she could ask for. She was living her dream. \par  
She stepped out from behind the counter and walked over the front of the store. There was a huge bay window that looked out over the town. It offered a perfect view of Front street, and beyond that; the sea. It was one of the things that had drawn her to the property when she had arrived, well, that and the low price. It was in a great location, with easy access for most of the townspeople, not to mention a great view for herself which came in handy since she lived in the apartment above the store. And in addition, the spacious window allowed her ample room for various displays throughout the year. \par  
As she stood there, a few people waved to her as they walked by. She smiled and waved back to each of them. She had come a long, long way from being the scared twenty three year old who had arrived not knowing anyone. She had picked Broadchurch because of it's remote location and the fact that it was by the Ocean, which she dearly loved. Now she was at the point where she knew mostly everyone in the town, if not by name then definately by face. It made her sick at heart to think of anyone being capable of harming that poor little boy. She hadn't known him very well, but she was friendly with his mother, Beth. She was an avid reader, and came into the store quite often.

She was so lost in thought that she barely even registered when the door to the store opened and in walked Seargant Ellie Miller.

"How you doing today, love?" the detective asked her.

Rebecca smiled. She didn't have many opportunities to speak with the kindly officer, but from the times she had spoken with her she seemed like she was firm but very compassionate which was a great combination for a police officer.

"I'm alright, how are you holding up? With...the investigation and everything?"

Ellie sighed, the dark circles under her eyes a clear display of her exhaustion. "Hanging in there. Doing the best we can. It's...hard. This town has never been through anything like this before."

Rebecca nodded consolingly. She had grown up in an American city, so this type of crime , although never affecting her personally, was familiar to her. But she could empathize how something like this could affect a town that had never experianced anything like it before. "I feel so badly for the Latimer's," she murmered. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No dear," Ellie said sadly, "there's not much any of us can do, aside from catching the sod that did this."

"I heard that you've got a new guy working with you," Rebecca said. "How's that going

Ellie groaned as she covered her face with her hands. "Detective Inspecter Alec Hardy. He's bloody awful."

Rebecca grimaced. "That bad, huh?"

"It's not that he's bad, per se. He's a great detective, very methodical. Very concise. He's just a bit too..."

"A bit too...?

She sighed. "A bit too cold. The man's a bloody iceberg. He does his job and he does it well, he just...could show a bit more emotion, you know?" She tiredly rubbed her eyes. "I'm sure he's just not used to the small town mentality that we have here."

Rebecca stifled a smile. She could easily identify with that. It had taken her a while to get used to that after she moved here as well. "As long as he does his job, that's all we can hope for."

Ellie smiled. "You're right, of course. Sometimes I forget what it's like for people who aren't used to living here." She looked at her watch. "I better get going. I promised the Latimer's I'd stop by and give them an update on the investigation."

"Can I get you some coffee? Tea?"

She waved her hand. "No, thanks. I'm already running on three cups. Any more and I'll float away."

Rebecca grinned. "Okay then. Take care, Ellie.

As the officer walked out, Rebecca sat back in her chair and looked around the store, contemplating. Ellie's words about small town mentality had stuck with her. She wasn't a cop, wasn't involved in any sort of faculty that could help the investigation along. But maybe there was something else she could do to help.

She sat up with a smile. She knew exactly what she was going to do

~*~To be continued 


	2. Chapter 2

Her heart much lighter, Rebecca stepped lightly down the path the Latimer's house. While she was still heartbroken for them over their loss, the fact that she could perhaps do something to lighten their spirits made her feel slightly more useful. She had closed up the shop for lunch, and had grabbed a bite of chippy so she could eat as she walked. It was a gorgeous day. The sun shone down brightly on the walkway as she strolled through town, dappling the path with golden light. And even though she couldn't see a glimpse of it as she walked, she could hear the ocean and smell the brine in the air.

She took a bite of the crispy, flakey fish and sighed. If anything else, she was happy she moved here for the food. One wouldn't expect such amazing food in such a small, rustic town, but there it was. Small surprises, every day. Little bits of happiness that made life more worth living than it already was.

As she crossed a meadow and reached the Latimer house, she tucked the remainder of her lunch in her messenger bag, and shifted the package she had underneath her arm so she could knock on the door. The Latimer's daughter Cloe answered, and led Rebecca down the hallway into the family room where her parents were. Mark and Beth Latimer sat on the couch, Mark's arm protectively around Beth's shoulder. In the two chairs facing them sat Ellie and a man Rebecca didn't recognize. She assumed it was her ice king partner.

She gave a start when she saw that they were still working on the investigation and was probably just getting in the way. "Ellie...I'm sorry to interrupt," she said awkwardly. "I didn't realize you were still here."

"It's alright," she said with a smile. "We were just wrapping up here, anyway."

Beth stood up and walked over to her. "It's good to see another friendly face."

She embraced her and Rebecca thought she felt even thinner than usual.

"I brought you something." She handed Beth the package. "It's a few books," she said, suddenly feeling very inadequate. "It's not much, I know, I just thought you could use something to...take your mind off things."

Beth looked down at the books for a moment silently, running her hands slowly over the covers. "People keep bringing us food," she said with a shaky laugh. "Thank you," her eyes filled with tears as she embraced Rebecca. "I appreciate the thought, thank you very much."

Ellie and the other detective stood up and walked out to the kitchen. She smiled at her as she walked past, while the man stared at her without saying anything at all.

Turning back to Beth, Rebecca stepped forward and enveloped the young mother in a hug. "I know it's not much, but I just really more than anything wanted you to know that I'm here if you and your family need anything."

"Thank you," she whispered.

She gave Mark and Chloe each hugs, and then stopped in the kitchen before she left to say goodbye to Ellie, who was making them tea.

"Sorry about that," Rebecca said cheerfully. "Didn't realize you guys would still be here."

"No worries," Ellie said, looking at her partner, who was by the sink staring out the window. "We needed a bit of a break anyway. Tough buisness, this."

Rebecca nodded sympathetically.

Without turning around the other detective asked, "So how long have you lived in Broadchurch?"

"Oh, um," caught off guard by the sudden question she answered, "It's been about five years now."

"And have you known the Latimer's that whole time? Pretty close to them?

"Well," she thought about it. "It took me a while to get to know them well, I suppose. But I wouldn't say I'm more friendly with them than anyone else in town, to be honest."

He turned around, facing her, and leaned up against the sink, his arms folded. "You just brought Beth Latimer a present. You would do that for just anybody?"

Thoroughly confused now, she turned to Ellie and said, "Well...yes. Of course I would."

Ellie shook with silent laughter. "I know, I know, believe me I've tried to explain it. But he just doesn't get small town dynamics."

"Oh, I **get** them," he said, "I'm just suspicious of them." He looked down at his mug huffily. "And why can't I get a bloody good cup of tea in this town!?"

His agitated expression, tousled brown hair, and thick Scottish brogue for some reason brought a smile to her lips. She walked over and held out her hand. "I'm Rebecca, by the way." She didn't plan on saying anything further, but for some reason she found herself continuing, "I serve tea over at my shop down on Main Street...if you'd like to try it out."

"She does have good tea," Ellie piped in. "I usually have a cup every time I'm in there."

He shook her hand. "Detective Inspector Alec Hardy." He paused for a moment, thinking it over and looking her over. "What time is your shop open until?"

"Eight o'clock, but I can keep it open later if need be."

He nodded. "I'll be there at six."

"Okay!" she said. She felt a short burst of enthusiasm without knowing why, and wondered at it." "I'm going to head back over," she said. "I'm late getting back as it is."

"See you later," Ellie said. Alec didn't say anything, just kept looking at her.

Slightly unnerved, she left the Latimer house and walked back to work.

~*~To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

_I watch that girl walk out the door, my thoughts muddled. When I turn back around I see Miller looking at me with a smile on her face._

"What?" _I ask her._

"Just wondering why you were so quick to agree to go to Rebecca's later on? I usually have to drag you practically kicking and screaming to do anything social."

 _How can I answer her when I don't even know the answer myself?_

 _So I take the cowards way out and shrug like I don't give a damn_. "She hasn't lived here very long, compared to the other residents. Could be she has something to hide."

Miller's mouth opened in surprise. "You don't think...I mean you don't actually think Rebecca could have..."

"I don't know what I think right now. But I **DO** know that I need to investigate any possible lead."

 _Miller looked troubled. Good. She should be. Because like it or not it was very likely that one of these people that she considered to be a friend had committed a monstrous crime. And the sooner she got that thought through her head the better_.

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asked tentatively.

 _I shake my head_. "No. I can handle this one myself. I'd like you to go back down and check out the beachfront again, by the cliffs. See if anything comes up, anything we may have missed the first time around."

She nods, then walks out to the living room to say her goodbyes to the Latimer family.

 _I have no idea why I agreed to go to that girl's shop today. I can say whatever I want to Miller, act as suspicious as I please, but if I'm honest with myself I know that questioning that girl about the Latimer case has nothing to do with it. It has more to do with the way she made me feel when she walked into the room. Like she was sunshine, personified. The whole bloody place lit up. And I can't understand why._

 _But I need to find out._  
}


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was just starting to set on the horizon as Detective Inspector Alec Hardy made his way to the small bookstore to interview his last suspect for the day. He had saved Rebecca for last, and at the time he wasn't sure why he had been determined to do so. It was only now, as he was walking down Broad Street that he realized it was because he didn't want to rush _this particular_ interview. Something about that young woman's smile had intrigued him. And at the same time it made him suspicious. Nobody could be that bloody happy at the drop of a pin like that. She had to be hiding something. At the back of his mind he knew he was over exaggerating things, again, but this was somehow easier to accept than the alternative, which was that he simply wanted to see her again.

 _She's a suspect_ , he told himself firmly. _And you do not fraternize with suspects_. But was she a suspect? Was she _really?_ He had only spoken with her for a moment or two earlier in the day, had she really impressed upon him inklings of her guilt in that short amount of time? _Not really, no,_ he thought grudgingly. It was just that she was new in town. Well, new-ish anyway. And new-ish people always ended up being suspects. Or at the very least, persons of interest. Interest. That was the key word here. Interest was what was drawing him to that woman, to see her again, to speak with her again, to find out if the room would light up again when she smiled or if it had been just a fluke. Which was not like him at all. To wonder in this way.

He scowled. How dare this stranger make him feel like this. He was Alec bloody Hardy, for Christ's sake. He did not get _interested_ in random young women he had only known for five minutes. He adjusted his tie angrily. That settled it. He was going in, getting the information he needed from her, and leaving, most likely never to see her again. And that would be the end of it.

Feeling conflicted, he picked up the pace until he reached the address that Ellie had given him. He gazed up at the building. It was an older place, looked like it had been recently renovated. There was a small cart of used books sitting out front and he could see a selection of brand new books sitting in the large bay window. The blue awning above the store read, _The Old Curiosity Shop_ , which brought a small, unexpected smile to his face. He held a door open for a customer who was walking out and strode through the door. There didn't seem to be anyone else around. He looked around the store, which seemed to be a combination bookstore and tea shop. There were large comfy looking leather chairs scattered throughout the floor near the bookshelves as well as a couple of tables and chairs for people to sit and enjoy their drinks while reading. It was a small place, but it was set up well, using the space efficiently. The air smelled pleasant, like lemons. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying a brief moment of respite.

"Hello, Detective!"

His eyes snapped open and moved to the counter where he heard his name. Rebecca was walking out from behind the counter, wiping her hands on a towel she had tucked into her pocket. She crossed the length of the store to reach him, and as she got closer he noticed the lemon scent growing stronger. _It's not the store,_ he realized suddenly. _It's her._

She held out her hand and he took it, slightly disconcerted that something as simple as a scent could cause such a sharp swerve of emotions from neutral to...something else which was entirely not neutral.

"It's so nice to see you again!" she exclaimed as they shook hands.

Only a prat would be this excited to see someone who was going to be questioning her about a murder case. He scowled.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Wow, what's **that** look for? Did I do something wrong?"

He smiled grimly. "I don't know, why don't you tell me, Miss Foulks?"

Much to his annoyance she didn't seem to be rattled by his dour attitude. "Please," she said genially, "call me Rebecca. Would you like some tea?"

Try as he might he couldn't think of any sound reason to refuse. "Sure," he said.

She gestured for him to sit down and he chose the table closest to the window, keeping an eye on the passersby on the street, wondering which of them, if any, had any involvement in the Latimer case. Everyone was a possible suspect. He couldn't afford to botch this case up. Not after the last one. He rubbed his eyes wearily. He wasn't getting enough sleep, his mind too wired with the details of the case to be able to adequately relax. And yet he knew his doctor had told him he needed to remain as stress free as possible due to his health issues. Alec smirked. As if he would be able to keep the anxiety at bay while working on a murder investigation. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Rebecca reaching into a cupboard above the register to grab two mugs. As she stretched upwards her shirt rode up slightly in the back, giving him a quick flash of her pale white skin. His eyes involuntarily moved lower and he wistfully admired the way her arse looked in the jeans she was wearing. Alec tore his eyes from her as quickly as if he had been burned. _Quit it, you old perv,_ he admonished himself. _And don't forget she's possibly a suspect_. But as harsh as he cursed at himself, he couldn't help but feel his eyes drawn to her once more. She had retrieved the cups and was currently filling them with boiling water. A few strands of her long brown hair fell over her shoulder as she poured, and Alec was seized with the sudden and inexplicable desire to walk over and tuck it back behind her ear. Something about the girl begged to be touched, that was for sure. He tried to attribute it to the fact that it had been so long since he had been with a woman, but that somehow didn't feel right. This went beyond sexual desire somehow, in a way he found hard to pinpoint.

"Here we are," she said walking over with both mugs, setting one in front of him and one in front of herself as she sat down across from him at the small table.

"Thanks," he said gruffly as he blew on the hot liquid and took a sip. His eyebrows raised in surprise. "This is pretty good," he said. "Well, at least it's pretty good compared to what the rest of Broadchurch has had to offer so far."

She let out an amused laugh. "Well, thanks so much. At least I think that was a compliment. With you it's hard to be sure."

"I don't hand them out often," he admitted.

She grinned. "Yeah, I figured that." She gestured to his cup. "It's nothing special, to be honest. Just an herbal tea. Chamomile, elderflower, and jasmine. I was hesitant to give you straight black tea to be honest."

"And why's that?"

She frowned. "You look exhausted. I figured the last thing you needed was more caffeine. You look like you could use a good nights sleep, and that tea will help."

He was oddly moved by her concern for him. He brought the cup up to his lips and inhaled a deep breath of the flowery aroma as he took another small sip. It was comforting. "I haven't been sleeping well, not since I got here." Now why in the hell did he just tell her that?

She nodded. "I can understand that. It must be a brutal thing, to be working on such a tragic case."

How in the hell did she take control of the conversation that fast? He must be more tired than he thought. He set his cup down. "Speaking of the murder case. Let's start with a few questions."

"Okay," she said. "Ask away."

"How long have you lived in Broadchurch?" he asked as he pulled a small notepad from his jacket pocket and flipping open the front cover.

"It'll be five years next month," she replied, taking another sip of her tea.

"And you're originally from the US, is that right?" He couldn't remember if Ellie had told him that or if she had.

"Yes, that's right," she said.

"Why Broadchurch?" he asked. "Why _here_? Seems like a big leap, going from America to here."

He saw her tense up, just for a second, before relaxing again. "I've always loved England, and I had reached a point in my life where I needed a fresh start." She shrugged. "This seemed like a good place to do so."

 _So in other words, you were running away from something, or someone_ , he thought as he took notes. _I wonder what it is..._

"Just how well do you know the Latimer's?" he continued.

"Beth comes in here a couple times a month, to pick up a new book or just to gossip. I've run into Mark a few times on the street or in the market. I know them, but not very well."

Alec jotted it all down. "And the kids?"

"Chloe's not much of a reader, so I don't see her very often. Danny comes in here every couple of weeks to look at comics. I mean, he _used_ to come in every couple of weeks." She folded her arms. "I just can't believe he's gone. He was such a sweet little guy. And his poor family."

Her sadness seemed genuine. He wanted to believe her, and yet he knew that some of the worst sociopaths found it easy to fake that kind of raw emotion. "When did you last see Danny?" he asked.

She thought about it. "I guess about a week before he died? He was in here with a few of his mates."

"Did he seem like he was in trouble at all? Anxious?" He had a feeling that if there was something that had been out of the ordinary Rebecca would have noticed. She seemed to be pretty perceptive.

Rebecca frowned. "No, not at all," she replied. "He seemed normal to me."

Alec nodded. "Can you account for your whereabouts on the night he was murdered?"

She nodded. "I was here, tending the shop. I closed up around eight, had some dinner, and then read for a while before going to sleep."

"Can anyone verify that?"

"Are you asking me if I had anyone in bed with me that evening, Detective Inspector?" Rebecca asked.

Alec looked up sharply. He had been so involved with his line of questioning that he didn't even realize that he had asked that last bit. And that was _exactly_ what he had meant by that question. And he wanted to know for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with the murder case. Fortunately, she didn't seem offended in the least. If nothing else she seemed amused. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she took a nonchalant sip of her tea while waiting for his response.

Why was his bloody mouth so dry all of a sudden? He took another sip of tea. "Were you alone, Rebecca?" Her name felt personal on his lips. A little _too_ personal.

A slow smile spread across her face. He felt his face warm in response. What the hell? What did it _matter_ to him if she had spent the night alone or not?

"As a matter of fact," she replied, "I _was_ alone. All night."

He cleared his throat. "Good, that's...good."

She bit her lip and grinned. "Is it?"

Was this flirting? Was she actually _flirting_ with him? Couldn't be. Women did not _flirt_ with him. Especially women like her. He couldn't help but stare at her lip between her teeth. He thought about biting it himself. He wondered how it tasted. How _she_ tasted.

He stood up abruptly, startling them both. "I think that about wraps it up, Miss Foulks."

"Sure...if you say so, Detective."

She was quiet as she walked him to the front of the store. From what he gathered he figured he could officially rule her out as a suspect. Most likely this would be the last time he would be in contact with her. Which was fine, being that that was what he wanted.

Wasn't it?

He was a roiling mass of confusion, lust, and tenderness. He had no idea if he wanted to storm out and never see her again, take her in his arms and kiss her forehead, or push her up against the wall and shag her senseless. Probably a bit of all three. He was simultaneously bewitched and aggravated and how could one woman cause him so much of an internal struggle?

"The Old Curiosity Shop, eh?" he asked suddenly. He realized he was not quite ready to leave yet. He was grasping at straws, trying to draw out their last few minutes together. "Nice reference."

She clapped her hands in delight. "Do you know you are the _first_ person to get it? I was starting to believe that no one enjoyed Dickens' anymore!"

He barked out a small laugh. "With all the internet and telly that people get wrapped up in these days, I wouldn't be surprised. Dickens is a classic author. One of my favorites."

Her eyes sparkled happily. "He's one of my favorites too."

They looked at each other, Alec becoming painfully aware of how close they were standing to each other. He could reach out and touch her, if he wanted to. Did he want her too? Did she? He remembered his fumbled attempts at seducing Becca a few nights prior and the humiliation of the memory was enough of a jolt to bring him to his senses. What was he even thinking? This woman was not for him. He turned from her and walked to the front door, yanking it open forcefully.

"It was really nice seeing you again, Detective," Rebecca said to him as she followed him to the door.

Alec's control finally snapped. "Are you always this bloody happy all the bloody time?" he asked. He wasn't even angry, he was just desperately curious to understand what made this girl tick. To understand why she was driving him mad.

She looked surprised at his question. "Well, sure. At least...I try to be. Life's so much better that way. Don't you think?

He looked at her in genuine bewilderment, unable to come up with a proper response.

She laughed softly. "For the last time, Detective, please call me Rebecca. And thanks for the company. I did enjoy it very much." She gave him a lopsided grin. "I'm sorry if you didn't feel the same."

She closed the door behind him before he had a chance to respond. He looked at the door for a moment, before turning and walking down the street towards the direction he parked his car. _Well, that's that,_ he thought. _She's not a suspect so there's no reason for us to see each other again._ He suddenly realized that he hadn't even left her a card so if she _did_ want to get in touch with him she wouldn't have any way to contact him. He should have felt relief, but what was coursing through his veins was something akin to frustration. And despair.

Despite the humid night air, he felt a lonely chill creep through him as he walked to his car in the moonlight.

~*~ To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

***Chapter 5**

 _He cradles her head in his hands as if she's something precious, as if he'll never be able to let her go. While rubbing her cheek tenderly with his thumb he leans down and presses a kiss gently against her lips. She sighs into his mouth and raises her hand to reach around his neck and pull him closer..._

"Earth to Rebecca."

She jolted immediately out of her reverie, blushing fiercely. The fact that she had been caught daydreaming by the town Reverend only made it worse. Not that he could have possibly known what she had been thinking about. Not unless she had a moronic, simpering look on her face. Which was, in all honesty, very likely. She blushed even deeper.

But either the Reverend didn't notice or he was polite enough to ignore it. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes, Paul, I'm fine thanks," she said hastily. "Just sort of had my thoughts run away from me, you know how it is."

He nodded. "I understand completely. This is a troubled time for us all."

She winced inwardly. He had assumed she had been distracted by poor Danny Latimer's murder, when in reality it had been nothing more than a lurid fantasy about Detective Hardy. _You ought to be ashamed of yourself,_ she thought, scolding herself gently. But the truth was, she hadn't been able to _stop_ losing herself in daydreams like that since their conversation in her shop almost a week ago. He was completely exasperating and brought the word grouchy to a whole new level, and yet...there was just something about him. She sensed that despite his gruff exterior he was actually quite a sweetheart. For whatever reason he chose to hide that side of him, which was why most people in town didn't seem to care for him much, or try to see past the surface to learn more about him. It intrigued her, this mystery of Alec Hardy. She wondered what it would be like to get closer to him, to get to know him better. She stifled a sigh. _And that's the biggest fantasy of all,_ she thought morosely. For a brief moment when they were together she had thought that they...but no. He had practically run from her the other night, making it quite clear that her feelings were not reciprocated. She had flirted with him openly which wasn't like her. She had only just met the man, and yet despite her logical self advising against it, she found she couldn't resist. She had been in town for a few years and had _never_ flirted with any of the townspeople or tourists like that before. She had been asked out a few times, sure, but she had always gently turned them down. She wasn't sure why, exactly. Everyone in Broadchurch was very kind, and even if she wasn't looking for a relationship, there was nothing stopping her from having a fling if she so desired it. But she didn't. The other night in the bookstore was the first time she had let her guard down around a man in a long, long time. At least he had the good grace to refrain from embarrassing her about it. He could have been rude about not feeling the same way, god knows he didn't have a problem holding back from rudeness on any other occasion. She had to give him credit for that.

Paul gestured to the empty chair across from her. "May I sit down?" he asked.

She laid down the paperback she had been reading and smiled warmly. "Of course, Paul." She was immediately grateful for the company. Maybe it would help get her mind of Alec.

Her and Paul often crossed paths here at the Traders Hotel, expecially on Mondays. She liked to grab lunch and a drink in the afternoons since it was the only day of the week her store was closed. And he was friends with the proprietor, Becca Fisher, so he was there quite often as well, either having a bite to eat or to just work on his sermon for the following week. Even though she wasn't necessarily a religious person, she found his company pleasant, and enjoyed speaking with him. She pushed her plate towards him, offering him some of her chips. He shook his head and she pulled it back over, grabbing a chip and popping it in her mouth in the process.

"I heard you did right by Danny in your sermon yesterday," she said softly.

"Were you there?" he asked, sounding surprised.

She shook her head. "No, I wasn't," she admitted. "But a few people came in the store last evening and they told me about it."

He shrugged sadly. "It wasn't much, I feel so absolutely helpless. It was all I could do for his family outside of prayer. I just wish it was enough."

She knew how he felt. She had brought books to Beth the other day because that's all she could think to do. She wanted to help in whatever way she could, and books were what she knew. But books wouldn't bring Danny back. She reached over and patted his hand. "You did a great job, Paul."

"The sooner the police find out who did this and bring him to justice, the sooner the Latimer's can begin to heal." He looked up at her. "What do you think of the Detective in charge?" he asked suddenly.

"Erm," she said, not at all happy to be brought to the subject of Alex Hardy. "I think he's very...thorough," she said weakly.

"He came by to interview me the other day," Paul said, frowning slightly. "He was very... intimidating. I don't think he likes it here. Or maybe it was just me he didn't like."

"I think that's just his way," Rebecca replied, aware she was defending for Alec but finding herself quite unable to stop. "He wants to solve this case just as much as anyone does. And he'll stop at nothing to do so. I know he comes across kind of... harsh, but I really honestly think he has all the best intentions."

Paul didn't look convinced.

"He interviewed me too," she confessed.

"And how did it go?" Paul asked.

She thought of the intensity of his dark brown eyes. Eyes you could easily get lost in. Drown yourself in. She thought of the way he had laughed with her over their newly discovered mutual love of Dickens. The way he had stood so close to her at the end of their conversation, and how for an instant she was _so_ certain he was going to kiss her. Before the shutters closed over his emotions and he practically ran from her. "It was...yeah, it was intense," she said. "But it was also..."

"Also...?" he prompted.

At that moment Becca came round to grab her empty glass. "Fancy another?" she asked cordially.

Rebecca nodded. "Yes, please, that would be great, thanks."

"Are you two talking about that new detective?" she asked.

Rebecca gritted her teeth. She didn't mind Becca, per se, she had always been friendly with her. But the last thing she wanted at the moment was to be stuck gossiping with her. Especially gossip pertaining to Alec.

Paul must have felt the same way. "We were just saying that we hope he and Ellie solve the case soon," he said, closing off the conversation.

But Becca wasn't done. She pulled up a chair and sat down with them. "I'll tell you what," she said conspiratorially, "it seems to me his head isn't completely focused on just the case, if you know what I mean."

"What are you talking about?" Rebecca asked.

"I stopped by his room two nights ago to make sure he was okay, you know, after he fell," she said.

It was the first Rebecca had heard of him falling, and she felt a rush of concern for him. She filed it away for later and nodded.

"Well," Becca continued, "so there I am, in his room, and before I knew it, he bloody propositioned me, that's what he did!"

Paul's eyes widened.

"Wait," Rebecca said, feeling her pulse spike in confusion and anger. But whether it was anger at Becca or Alex, she couldn't tell. "How do you mean, propositioned?"

Becca smiled smugly. "What do you _think_ I mean? He wanted me to have sex with him!"

Paul crossed himself.

"Can you imagine?" Becca laughed. "I turned him down, of course. As if I would be interested in sleeping with ihim/i!"

Rebecca didn't answer. She had spent a lifetime schooling her emotions, yet she struggled to do so now. How dare Becca act so casual about it? She thought of the way her body immediately reacted when he was standing close to her. How could she be the only one that felt that way about him? And was it true? He was interested in Becca? Was that why he had been so anxious to get away from her the other night? She cast a glance towards the other woman; her blonde hair and tall, limber frame. Of course that would be the sort of woman he would want to be with. Her stomach clenched painfully. She herself was ordinary, plain. What had made her think in her wildest dreams that he would be interested in her? A small bubble of self righteous anger rose in her. No. Just because he didn't want to be with her didn't make her any less of a woman. He didn't like her? So what? She _liked_ who she was. She had worked a long time learning to be comfortable in her own skin, and if he couldn't see that, well, it was _his_ loss, not hers. She bit her lip. But still. It hurt a bit. She had thought they had made a connection. She was obviously mistaken.

"Are you alright?" Paul asked.

She buried her tumultuous feelings and smiled at them both. "Oh yes," she said. "I'm fine. Although, I think I won't take you up on that refill after all. If you could just bring me the check, that would be great."

...

She walked down Central Avenue, feeling slightly better with the breeze in her face tangling her hair. The sun on her bare arms made her shiver and she lifted her face to the sunshine, covering her eyes and smiling. It was hard for sadness to keep her in its clutches for very long, especially on such a beautiful day. She stopped by her flat to drop off her book and to pick up a package she had left on the corner of her counter. Locking up behind her, she made her way out of the building and further down the street until she reached Jack Marshall's newspaper store on the end of the lane. She smiled as she remembered how standoffish Jack had been when she had first set up her shop in town. As nice as she had been to him and as hard as she had tried to get him to open up to her, she just couldn't seem to make a connection with him. Eventually she figured out that he hadn't anything personally against _her_ , but rather he was afraid her store would cause him to lose customers. So the next day she made him a batch of chocolate chip cookies and had sat down with him, making sure he knew that she was planning on selling books _only_ , not magazines and newspapers, so he didn't need to be worried. Ever since then, he spoke very kindly to her whenever she saw him, and graced her with a rare smile. She clutched the package to her chest, knowing she was going to make his day. She had ordered a book for him as a surprise, and it had finally come in. He had mentioned it in passing a few weeks ago, and she had gone right home and put an order in for it.

The little chime on the door sounded as she walked in, passing by the racks of magazines and newspapers and the plethora of childrens beach toys as she moved toward the back of the store. She heard a low murmer of voices and assumed Jack was with a customer. But when she rounded the corner and heard a familiar Scottish accent she thought she felt her heart come to a dead halt before kickstarting into overdrive. She emited a small squeak of surprise before she could stop herself. There he was again. Alec Hardy.

"Rebecca," Jack called out as both men turned to face her. "What a pleasant surprise." He was beaming at her. Alec was scowling, but the expression didn't quite match his eyes, which almost seemed to light up when he saw her.

She couldn't help herself. She grinned at him, biting her lip shyly. "Hello, Detective Inspector. Jack. I hope this isn't a bad time?"

Jack shook his head. "Not at all, we were just finishing up here, wern't we, Detective?"

Alec flipped his notebook shut and slid it into his jacket pocket. "Just about, yes," he said.

She took a few steps closer, until she was facing Jack and only an arms length away from the detective. She did it as an experiment more than anything else. She was curious to know if how she felt the other night was just a fluke.

It wasn't.

Tension suddenly filled the room, making it stuffy despite the cool air blowing from the air conditioner. He was close enough to touch and she found herself unable to think of anything else. She longed to run her hands across his chest, to feel his arms tightly gripping her close to him. She was absolutely burning for him, and she had no idea why. What in the world was **wrong** with her? _For God's sake,_ she thought, _get a hold of yourself, girl!_ If she looked at him she knew she would be lost. She could feel the heat from Alec's glare as she kept her eyes on Jack and refused to look at him.

"This is for you," she said as she handed the package to Jack. "It's that book you mentioned a while back.

He unwrapped the hardcover book and looked back at her, his eyes shining. "You remembered I said that?"

"Of course I did!" she replied, laughing. "How could I forget something like that?"

"Is this what you do?" Alec interjected. "You bring books to people? Last week is was Beth Latmier now this week Jack Marshall?" He didn't sound condenscending, just mildly curious.

She finally turned to look at him. "Yes," she said simply.

Jack cleared his throat. "Well, I deeply appreciate it, my dear," he said. "Thank you for thinking of me."

She smiled one last time. "It's my pleasure, Jack. It was no trouble at all."

And with that she turned and left the store without a backward glance.

...

Alec watched her leave with a growing sense of frustration. He had so many things he wanted to say to her, and yet every time he saw her he ended up as tongue-tied as a high school boy. When she was standing there he could see the way she was blushing and it was all he could do to not take her in his arms right then and there.

He sighed.

"She has a good heart, that one," Jack murmmered.

"What's that?" Alec snapped.

"She has a good heart," he repeated, looking Alec in the eye. "That matters, you know. Having a good heart."

Alec didn't respond. His eyes were on the door. He was aware that some instinctive part of him was screaming for him to follow her. Why couldn't he just do what any other normal bloke would do and go after her? Because he was Alec bloody Hardy, that's why. His lips set in a firm line. He was not here to _fraternize_. He had a case to solve. And it wasn't going to get done with him mooning over some girl. He stood rooted there with indescision. She _did_ have a good heart. A beatiful heart. Which matched everything else that was beautiful about her. _Dammit_ , he cursed to himself.

"Well that's all I need for right now, Mr. Marshall," he said as he turned and hastily left the store. "I'll be in touch."

Jack watched him leave, shaking his head and smiling ruefully as he picked up a broom and began to clean the floor.

...

 _I did it,_ she thought as she walked briskly down the street. _I managed to be near him and not make a total ass out of myself._ Despite that small triumph she couldn't help but feel disappointed. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. Twice now he had failed to make a move. He had made it crystal clear that he wasn't interested in her. But it didn't matter. Soon enough they would solve the case and he would sweep out of Broadchurch the way he swept in. She closed her eyes for a moment before turning to look at the crashing waves down by the shoreline. The sight usually filled her with a sense of peace but today it did nothing to quell her confusion and sadness. Why did it matter to her if Alec Hardy stayed or left?

Hearing her name being called out, she turned in surprise to see Alec walking towards her swiftly. She barely had any time to react before he had caught up to her.

"Hello," she said, smiling at him.

"Hello," he replied, slightly out of breath.

A few more moments of silence stretched between them and Rebecca had no idea whether she should say something or wait for him to come out with whatever it was that made him follow her in the first place.

"Have dinner with me," he said suddenly.

"I...what?" she asked. Her head was spinning and she thought she might topple over. Had she heard him correctly?

"Would you like to have dinner? With me?" He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Why?" she asked, mystified.

"Bloody hell," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Do I need to draw you a map?"

She laughed. "No, no, that's not what I mean. I just thought..."

"You just thought what, exactly?" he asked.

She could see the anxiety on his face as plain as day. And with a jolt she could tell how hard this was for him. This wasn't a man who did this often. Although, speaking of which...

"I thought maybe I wasn't your type," she said honestly. "I thought that maybe someone more like...Becca Fisher was would be who you were looking for."

He grimaced in embarresment. "Heard about that did you?"

She sighed. She felt very tired. "I like you Detective Hardy."

"You do?" his eyes widened.

"Yes, I do," she smiled shyly. "I like you very much."

"You do?" he said again, beginning to sound like a broken record.

Rebecca laughed. "Yes, I do. Is that so hard to believe?"

He looked pensive for a moment.

She shook her head. "That was supposed to be a retorical question, you know. Anyway, I like you alot, but I don't want to be some kind of rebound."

"Rebound? Because of Becca?" he laughed sharply. "You really have no idea, do you?"

She furrowed her brow in confusion.

He ran his hands through his hair in exasperation and sighed harshly. "I'm not interested in Ms. Fisher."

"Oh?" she said, pleased.

"And the only reason I even said anything to her in the first place was because I mistakenly thought that she would distract me from who I really wanted. That if I was with her I wouldn't be thinking of that _other_ person as much as I have been."

"What other person?" she asked.

He stared at her.

She felt her face go red as heat spread to her neck. He couldn't mean...? Was this really happening? "You're kidding," she said, a smile growing on her face.

"Have dinner with me, Rebecca," he said.

It was the third time he asked, and she remembered how in fairytales that three was a magical number. "I'd love to," she said.

His face lit up with a smile and it was so bright and so full of relief that Rebecca was sure she was going to implode with happiness. "Where would you like to go?" she asked.

He shrugged. "You obviously know this town better than I do, pick a place. Your favorite place." He pointed a finger at her. "Just no chippie."

She laughed delightedly. "You do know that you're on the coast of England, right?"

He snorted. "As if I could forget. How's Friday, I'll be around to fetch you after you close shop?"

"That's perfect," she said. She couldn't seem to stop smiling. "Absolutely perfect."

~*~ To be continued


	6. Chapter 6

**Just wanted to thank everyone for reading/favoriting/commenting on this story! As much as I adore writing these two adorable and awkward idiots I am always afraid I am boring you guys to tears! ^^; I'm so glad you like it so far! Thanks for all your support, it really does mean the world to me! Happy reading!**

 _This is probably a mistake,_ Alec thought grimly as he adjusted his tie for what was probably the fifth time since he had arrived at _The Old Curiosity Shop._ He was a few minutes early, and Rebecca was finishing up with her last customer so he decided to browse the store, not having had the chance to do so the last time. _And whose fault was that, you great bloody prat?_ he asked himself humorlessly as he paced the aisles. _You didn't get a chance to look around because you ran out of here last week like your arse was on fire. You got scared and turned tail and ran like a child._ But somehow, miraculously, she agreed to having dinner with him tonight, so maybe he had managed to not muck it up as badly as he had originally thought. Her face had lit up in a huge smile when she saw him walk through the door, her eyes as bright as stars. That she would have such a heart-stoppingly beautiful reaction just from seeing him made him feel...well, he wasn't sure how it made him feel. Warm and confused and elated and terrified all at the same time. He still could barely believe that she had said yes. _Must be daft_ , he thought with a snort, perusing the shelves. Not only were the books all in alphabetical order, but they were categorized by genre as well. She had little laminated hand-written cards on every other shelf, pointing out recommendations of various titles, each one decorated with smiley faces and swirly curlie cues. It was very _her_.

He smiled.

"Are you ready to go?" Rebecca asked cheerily as she came up behind him.

He hadn't even heard her approach, so absorbed as he was with his thoughts. The last customer she had been waiting on had finally left, and they were alone in the store. She was wearing a pale yellow sundress, with little while flowers patterned across it. It looked deliciously soft against her pale skin. He wondered what the material would feel like in his hands. He wondered how the dress would look on the floor of his bedroom.

 _Sodding Christ,_ he thought. "I'm ready" he said, hoping she wouldn't notice the catch in his voice and breath. "So where are we going?" he asked.

"Chippie Palace," she said. "They have the absolute **best** fried fish on this part of the coast."

The smile froze on his face.

She burst out laughing. "I'm kidding," she said. "I'm just kidding, I promise. Do you like Italian food?"

He relaxed. "Yes, very much so."

"Great," she responded, laying her hand on his arm. "I think I've picked the perfect place."

Alec nodded slowly, aware of little else but the warmth of her touch.

...

In spite of his original expectations, it was actually a really nice place. Alec had long since given up abandoning his preconceived notions about Broadchurch. He just expected to be disappointed wherever he went in this town. So when she led him down a small side street to the tiny restaurant tucked in between two shops he had his doubts. But despite it's diminutive size, it was really very quaint. There was a small scattering of tables and chairs around the floor. Intricate murals of vineyards and canals painted the walls. The main lighting was dim, and several strands of lights hung across the doorways. It gave the whole room a lingering sense of hazy calm, that was only enhanced by the soft music playing in the background. And the food was excellent. He found himself placid for the first time in a really long time. He wasn't fidgety, which was what he usually experienced in social situations such as this; the need to get up and go wasn't overpowering as it usually was. After their meal was completed, they lingered over a bottle of wine. It had been a long time since he had had a dinner this wonderful. He was grudgingly impressed.

"You don't have to look so surprised, you know," Rebecca said to him wryly, as if reading his thoughts. "I can tell you didn't expect to like this place so much."

"Who says it's the place I like?" he remarked boldly, "maybe it's just the company?"

She looked at him silently, as a smile slowly spread across her face. He was pleased to see that a faint blush appeared on her neck at his comment.

"Is that so?" she asked. "And here I thought you were just here because of how much you love Broadchurch."

He grimaced before he could stop himself.

He expected her to be angry with him but instead she just laughed. "Tell me something, Alec," she said softly. Her voice slipped over him like a dusky wave of longing. "Tell me something _true_."

"Alright," he said, suddenly wary.

"Why do you hate this town so much?"

He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. He remembered the comments he had made to an friend not long after arriving here. How he hated the sky, the sun, the people. But as more time had passed and he had more time to ponder over the negative emotions he associated with Broadchurch he realized that that had just been a generalization. One that had been built off the prejudices and despair he himself had carried here with him. "It isn't...the town itself as much as what it represents," he said.

"And what is that, exactly?" she asked.

"It used to be innocent," he said, "and now it's not." He sighed. It seemed simple enough when he said it out loud.

"Ah," she said as she sat back in her chair. "So it's not that you hate the town itself, it's that you hate the injustice that's pervaded it, am I right? It used to be innocent and the loss of its innocence is what upsets you."

He blinked. When she put it like that... "I suppose so."

"See?" She said, smiling brightly. "You're not as big of a hard-ass as everyone, including yourself, thinks."

"Maybe," he huffed, immediately reverting back to his regular grouchy countenance.

"Oh no you don't!" Rebecca said, laughingly, "I knew your true colors all along. You may have fooled everyone else but you don't fool me."

"And how is it exactly that you know me better than myself?" he asked, smiling despite himself. That seemed to happen a lot around her, this smiling business.

Her face grew serious as she cocked her head, looking at him. She bit her lip and Alec felt his whole body grow warm as she silently assessed him.

"You know...I'm not sure," she replied honestly. "I just feel like I do. It's something about you, I know I haven't known you for very long..." she hesitated, "but I already feel really close to you." She blushed and looked away, as if she had said too much.

He grinned, and it felt completely natural. "Is that so?"

She smirked at him and took another sip of wine. "You're a horrible tease, aren't you?"

He lifted his hands in defense. "I don't know," he said with mock seriousness, "you're the Alec Hardy expert apparently, not me."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Now I want to hear something true from _you_ ," Alec said.

"Fire away," she replied.

"What brought you here? To Broadchurch, I mean."

Her eyes grew sad. "Another interrogation, Detective?"

 _Shit_. "This has nothing to do with the case."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I promise," he said gently. And it was true. It had nothing to do with his investigation and everything to do with the fact that he wanted to know any and every single thing he could about her. He was desperate to understand her. Maybe in understanding her it would become clearer to him why he had become so invested in her. And this was a riddle to him; why she ended up here, of all places. It seemed to him that a bright young woman like her could have done well anywhere. So why **here**?

She ran her finger across the top of her wineglass while looking at him. She seemed to be making a conscious effort to decide whether she should tell him or not. She took a long lingering sip and set the glass back down. "I used to be married," she said softly.

Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn't been that. He kept the surprise from his voice. "Really?" he asked.

She nodded. "Oh yes. Right out of college. We had been seeing each other for a few years by that point, and it seemed like the logical next step."

He could hear the regret in her voice. "I'm assuming it didn't work out," he said.

She smirked, the bitter expression looking out of place on her usually bright countenance. "You could say that. It was a mistake from the beginning, actually. I got married for all the wrong reasons. Security, though, mostly. And pressure from my family to settle down."

"You're in your bloody twenties!" Alec said, outraged. This wasn't the damn middle ages.

Seeing his expression made her smile. "You don't know my parents. They're very old fashioned. And I wasn't strong enough to stand up to them." Her eyes grew clouded. "Which made me even less likely to stand up for myself when he started abusing me."

Anger, swift and full forced, hit him like a train. "Abused? He hit you?"

"No, it never got to that point," she admitted. "But he was emotionally and mentally abusive." She looked him in the eye. "And sometimes that can be worse than being hit."

If there was one thing he understood, it was that. The thought of someone doing that to her made him want to throttle them, whoever they were. "But you got away."

She nodded, a small vestige of pride illuminating her face. "I did. It took me a long time, to realize my own self worth, you know? But once I did, I woke up one day and said to myself that I was never going to put up with that kind of thing ever again." She smiled. "So I secretly went to a lawyer and had divorce papers drawn up, left one day and never came back."

"Just like that?" he asked incredulously. "You just picked up and left everything behind?"

"I figured I needed to make a big change. Remove myself from all the toxic people in my life. I got here and started my life over, from scratch. It took a long time to get to where I am at this point. This is my home now. And the rest, as they say, is history."

He stared at her. Bloody hell. After everything she had been through she still looked at the world in a positive light. He thought of the way he had acted since his own life had fallen apart and felt ashamed of himself. What was he doing here? This girl was completely out of his league.

"Enough of the heavy," Rebecca suddenly announced. "Are you ready for dessert?"

"I suppose so," he said as he smiled slightly.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but couldn't resist smiling back. "Well, they serve the absolute **best** chocolate cake here, and I'm not sharing, so you better be prepared to order your own, Detective Inspector!"

With a flash of insight he suddenly realized why he was so drawn to her. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, which she was, in a soft and subtle way that wasn't at all false or overbearing. It was the way she changed the very atmosphere of the room just with her presence alone. He felt...lighter somehow when he was near her. His burdens not as problematic as they had seemed before. As if her smile had the power to erase all the pain from his past. Instead of letting her past define her she had transcended it; she glowed with a passion for living. He grit his teeth. This was getting ridiculous. He wasn't some lovesick school boy. He was an adult. And this wasn't something adults were supposed to experience.

Was it?

...

It was a beautiful evening. The moon hung fat and low in the sky, throwing muted white patterns across the streets and the buildings. As they headed back to the bookstore, Rebecca shyly slid her arm through Alec's linking them together as they walked the streets of Broadchurch. Somewhere between dinner and dessert Alec had finally let go of his doubts, his worries, and just experienced each moment for what it was. He had never been the type to do that before, and it felt... _freeing_.

"So," Rebecca started, "About Becca Fisher."

He groaned. "Och," he said, "not this again. I told you what a mistake that had been, didn't I?"

"Yes, so you said," she said primly, biting her lip to keep from smiling.

"I was only trying to stop thinking about you," he said.

"It was kind of a bollocks move."

"That it was," he admitted.

"You should have just followed your instincts in the first place," she admonished.

He snorted. "What instincts?"

She turned and looked up at him, her eyes impish with mischief. "You should have just snogged me like you wanted to. Like _I_ wanted you to."

He opened his mouth to respond with a witty retort, but nothing came out. She laughed, and her laughter echoed through the empty streets like a wind-chime. "So what was that business about you having to go to the hospital?"

 _She sure doesn't beat around the bush, does she,_ he thought wryly. She'd make a good detective herself, with the way she was constantly asking questions and trying to ferret out information from people. "I have a heart arrhythmia," he said. "It flares up from time to time, it's not a big deal."

She looked stricken. "That is absolutely a big deal!" Her grip on his arm tightened. "Are you alright?" she asked. "Oh my god," she gasped. "I haven't set it off, have I? With all my talking? Sometimes I talk too much, I know.."

"I'm absolutely fine," he said, cutting her off with a chuckle. "Stress can make it flare up. There is nothing you could do to aggravate it." And with a start he realized it was true. His chest hadn't pained him all evening. He hadn't even had to take his pills.

They were silent for another block of so before reaching the bookstore. She stopped in front of it, and he looked at her in confusion. "I'm not leaving you here," he protested. There was a bloody murderer on the loose. "I'll walk you the rest of the way home."

"You already have." she gestured to the store. "I live in the flat above."

He wondered why he had never thought to ask before where she had lived. "Well that's convenient," he said somewhat awkwardly.

Rebecca looked at him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Well," she said nonchalantly,"I was wondering if you were going to ever get around to kissing me, or if you were planning on ignoring your instincts again? Unless..." She hesitated, suddenly looking unsure. "Unless I was completely wrong and you actually don't want me at all?"

He was on fire, his whole body throbbed with the desire to take her into his arms. Not want her at all? Was she crazy? With a sudden, jerky movement her grabbed her by the arms and pulled her against his chest. He could feel her heart beating wildly against his chest, like the wings of a bird. He looked down at her and saw her face flushed. He thought of what she had told him earlier and hesitated.

She sighed. "I'm not made of glass, Alec," she whispered. "I promise I won't break."

"I don't want you to think..." he started.

"Don't want me to think what? That you're taking advantage of me? Listen," she explained patiently. "The past is over and done with. I'm got tired of just being a survivor years ago. Now all I want to do is _live_."

"I'm older than you, you know," he said, unsure of why he was suddenly being such a huge prat.

"Does that matter?" she asked quizzically, as she took a step closer to him.

He swallowed. "Not to me."

"It doesn't matter to me either," she said softly as she gripped the lapels of his suit and pulled him closer. He squeezed her arms tightly as he lowered his head and finally did what he had been longing to do since he first met her.

He kissed her.

Hard.

To his delight she responded eagerly, hungrily. Their mouths came together in a fierce clash of tongues and teeth and lips. He was expecting soft and gentle and instead found her almost feverish as he was. Weeks of pent up frustration poured from the both of them. The sweet smell of lemons pervaded his senses as he crushed her to him, simultaneously spiking his desire and overwhelming him with tenderness. This precious, precious woman. It suddenly came to him that she was his complement in every way; she was light where he was dark, soft where he was hard. Hopeful where he was world-weary. Her very being seemed to flow through the cracks in his heart, lighting him up like the sun. She twined her arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into her even closer. Her body trembled against his frame. He pressed his hand against the small of her back, steadying her. He could feel the warmth from her skin through her dress. She brushed her hips against his, rubbing against his erection. He groaned and tightened his grip on her. Her lips formed a smile against his lips. He could feel it even with his eyes closed. With a soft growl he sank his teeth into her lower lip, causing her to gasp with pleasure into his mouth.

His phone went off in his pocket, making them both jump. She pulled away, her hair was mussed and her lips slightly swollen from his kisses, her eyes bright and disoriented; she had been as lost as he was in the moment. The moment that had, sod it all, been invariably ruined.

Cursing under his breath he pulled his phone and answered with a terse, "Hardy."

It was Miller. He had, for a brief moment, forgotten why he was here in the first place. Her calm voice brought him crashing back down to reality; the case, the murder, the investigation. There was new evidence that had cropped up and she wanted to discuss it with him. He rubbed his eyes wearily and agreed to meet her at the station. He hung up and looked over at Rebecca, who was leaning with her back against the door to her shop. She grinned.

"Duty calls?" she asked. "To be continued?"

Knowing what he _had_ to do versus what he _wanted_ to do didn't make it any easier. "Rebecca..." he started to say,

She shook her head, cutting him off. "No, you don't need to explain. I want you to catch this bastard just as much as anyone."

Relieved that she wasn't angry, he stepped over and kissed her swiftly, softly on the lips. "I'll call you," he said.

She smiled and bit her lip. "Please do," she said simply.

He turned and walked away, heading in the direction of his car, knowing that if he stayed for a moment longer he wouldn't be able to leave at all.

~*~ To be continued


	7. Chapter 7

Rebecca stretched out languidly, pushing her her hair away from her face, sleepily. It was the one day of the week that her shop was closed, so she could afford to lounge in bed for a little while. During the night sometime she must have thrown the covers off because they lay in a tangled pile at the end of her bed. The room was still warm, even though she was clad only in a tank top and panties. An early morning breeze danced through the open window, bringing with it the scent of distant waves; briny and fresh. She rubbed her eyes. She had slept deeply, peacefully. And she had dreamed again.

Another one of _those_ dreams.

She smiled indulgently.

It had been five days since she had seen Alec. Five days since their date. Five days since that kiss. That amazingly mind-blowing kiss. Although they had spoken briefly on the phone every night since then, they hadn't been able to see each other. Which was okay. She understood the incredible strain he was under with the murder investigation. The small fissures in the underlying social structure of the town were beginning to spread wider and deeper the longer the murderer roamed free. Family members and neighbors alike had caught the beginnings of paranoia; everyone suspected everyone of things they would normally never do. Just yesterday it had come out about the affair Becca Fisher had been carrying on with Mark Latimer. She couldn't even imagine what poor Beth must be going through. She could see how a tragedy like the murder of a beloved young boy could turn a town around on its head, make people question things they had normally taken for granted.

The lead that had called Alec away from her side that night had ended up being a dead end. He couldn't say much to her during their phone conversations, but she could tell he was tired and very frustrated with the way things had been going with the case. The longer the investigation dragged on the worse Alec's health became. She could hear it in his voice. She had the feeling that she was one of the only people that cared about him, which just about broke her heart. So yesterday she had stopped by the station and left him some packets of her herbal tea. He hadn't been there, but Ellie was, and she spoke with her briefly, trying to keep things light despite the tense atmosphere in the station. On a whim she left a sticky note on Alec's computer, with a small doodle of a heart in the center. She knew it would irk him, but she was also hoping it would bring a smile, albeit grudgingly, to his face. Look what fools love makes of us, she thought. He'll be gruff and probably give me grief over it, but maybe just maybe it will make him smile. It was important to her, for him to smile. To be happy. Her thoughts paused for a moment, feeling warmth suddenly pour into her heart, for she hadn't before used that word in reference to Alec. Love, she said again to herself; and yes, there was the feeling, the word was like a swallow of brandy. This was heat, like a flame with a jewel held at its heart. And the jewel was a word; love. She laughed out loud. Love. It was nice to be in love.

Her smile faltered at the realization. How had this happened? They barely knew each other. How could she have such strong feelings for him already? They had a connection, a strong one, despite the small amount of time they had been acquainted. It should have scared the hell out of her, logically she knew it should. But it didn't. She should be running for the hills because of the intensity of her feelings. But she wouldn't. All she felt was exhilaration and the wild, promise of hope. It was ridiculous. What future did this relationship have? As soon as the case was solved he was going to leave Broadchurch, more likely than not. But even thoughts like that couldn't bring her down. She had met someone special. She felt alive for the first time in what felt like forever. And _love,_ she was in love. She pressed her hand to her chest and the steady pulse of her heart made her giddy, almost breathless with happiness.

Her phone rang on the dresser next to the desk. Thinking it was Alec she answred without even glancing at the screen. "A very very good morning to you," she said with her eyes closed, a grin still plastered across her face.

"My, my," said a voice that was definately not Alec's, "someone is awfully chipper this morning. Care to enlighten me on the reason why?"

"Ollie!" Rebecca exclaimed. He was the last person she would have expected to hear from this early in the morning. Her and the young newspaper man had struck up a fast friendship when she had first moved to Broadchurch. They spent time together occasionally, going to see movies and to go to festivals and such, but it was rare for him to call her outright. He usually just stopped by to see her in the store. "No reason," she hedged playfully. "Just having a good morning, that's all."

"Uh-huh," he said, obviously not believing her. "Well I know you're friends with Jack Marshall, and I just wanted to let you you might want to steer clear of him for a few days."

"What?" she asked, completely perplexed. "Why?"

He hesitated a moment before continuing. "Look, you're my friend, so I wanted to tell you myself before you find out from someone else. I'm really not supposed to be saying anything at all."

"What is it, Ollie?" she asked, her heart pounding fearfully. "Is Jack alright? Did something happen to him?"

"Not exactly," he hedged.

She waited in silence for him to continue.

"He might be a prime suspect, Becks," he said softly. "It's come out that he...had an affair with one of his students. He used to be a teacher."

Rebecca sat riveted with shock. She couldn't believe it. She just couldn't. Not Jack. "It can't be..." she whispered.

She heard Ollie sight on the other end of the phone. "No one has said that he's actually been the one to kill Danny, but that's going to be everyone's next assumption, I can gaurentee you that."

Rebecca spoke with him a few more minutes before hanging up. Suddenly chilly, she pulled the blankets back up around her and looked out the window. She knew realistically that _someone_ from the town had most likely been the one to kill Danny. But she couldn't make herself believe that it was Jack. Despite Ollie's reccomendation that she stay away from Jack for a few days, she knew she had to go and speak with him. Pushing the covers aside she got out of bed and quickly began to get dressed.

...

After driving past the store and finding it closed she took the initiative and drove to hi small house. She had to knock three or four times to get him to answer the door and when he did she had to school herself not to react to his appearance. His hair was scraggly and unkempt and his eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn't slept in days. He probably hadn't.

"What do you want?" he rasped wearily. "Come to poke fun of me? Say dirty things about me?"

Her heart went out to him. He looked like an old weathered bird, cornered by a predator. "Jack," she said softly. "I would never do that, I'm you're friend, remember?"

He looked at her for a moment before grunting his assent and opening the door all the way and letting her in. She had been in his house just once before, when she had first moved to town, and had to convince him she wasn't out to steal his customers when she opened her shop. She hoped she would be able to provide him with a sense of comfort once more.

He sat on his couch, staring ahead without saying anything.

"I'll make us some tea," she said feebly before heading to the small kitchen. When she came back he had his head in his hands. She carefully poured out two cups and set them on the coffee table. She sat in the chair across from him, and waited for him to speak.

When he finally did his voice was full of frustration and defeat. "It's not true. What they're saying about me. It's not true."

"I know it's not, Jack," Rebecca replied. "No one in their right mind would think that you could be responsible for Danny's death." _Alec,_ she thought suddenly. _I should have called Alec right away, before doing anything else. He would believe me._

"It's not just about that," he said quietly. "I'm sure you heard about the...rest of it too."

She shifted on the chair awkwardly. "Well..." she hedged.

"Well they've twisted it," he spat out angrily. "They twisted the facts and made their own version of it, which isn't true and it taints everything like an oil spill."

Startled by his vehemence, she replied, "Why don't you tell me what really happened, Jack?"

He rubbed his eyes wearily. "Everyone wants to think the worst of people, no matter what." Jack sighed. "Yes, I went to prison for sexual intercourse with a minor. But we were _dating_ , she was one month away from turning sixteen. And when I got out of prison a year later, we got married. I...I _loved_ her."

Rebecca smiled. "That's beautiful Jack," she said. "It really is."

He continued on as if he hadn't heard her. "We had a son. Everything was perfect. And then he died in a car crash when he was still a boy." He looked up at her, fresh anguish in his eyes. "So if I hug the boys in the Sea Brigade, it isn't because I'm a pervert. I just miss my son. I miss my little boy. I could no sooner harm a child than harm myself."

Tears welled in her eyes. "Oh god, Jack...I'm so...I'm so very sorry." She got up and walked around the coffee table, sitting next to him on the couch. She put her hand on his. "We can tell the police," she said reassuringly. "We can tell them the truth and then they'll leave you alone." She thought of Alec, of his warm and reassuring presence. "The police, they're good people. They'll listen to you Jack."

"It's not the police I'm worried about," he said grimly.

There was a sound of gravel crunching and slamming, like numerous car doors opening and closing.

"What on earth is that?" Rebecca asked, looking out the window.

"It's what I've been expecting," Jack said morosely. "They've come for me."

~*~ To be continued


	8. Chapter 8

The scenery flew by in a blue as Alec drove as fast as humanly possible while tapping out a frustrated rhythm on his steering wheel. He and Miller had been planning to bring in Jack Marshall for questioning since the latest information regarding his past had come to light. He had thought that Jack Marshall's past had been known to only a select few people. He shouldn't have been surprised that Broadchurch had once again disappointed him. And how in the hell Rebecca had heard about it he couldn't even fathom. But when he received her phone call about how a mob of townspeople had gathered at Jack's house he had sprinted from the office like his life depended on it. He could tell she was trying to be as calm as possible, probably in an attempt to not aggravate his arrhythmia. But he could hear the slight undercurrent of panic in her voice and it made him almost frantic with concern.

 _Bloody fool,_ he thought, clenching his jaw so hard he could hear his teeth grinding. _What was she thinking, going to see him like that? Just because she doesn't believe he's the murderer doesn't mean he isn't the bloody murderer_. But he knew her well enough by now to know that she wouldn't have considered the danger of the situation at all. She would believe the best in anyone, give them the benefit of the doubt, and stand in their corner if she thought them innocent. Truth be told Alec didn't actually believe that Jack was responsible for the crime. But that didn't mean that the rest of the town would feel the same way, especially when catching wind of his tainted past. His frown deepened and his pressed the accelerator down even harder.

When he reached the house he was dismayed to see that it was actually worse than he had thought. There was a line of cars already filling up most of the gravel driveway, and a small crowd was gathered out front of the small ramshackle house.

Alec pushed through the crowd of angry, murmuring people and made his way to the front of the yard. He wasn't surprised to see Rebecca facing the crowd, her arms folded, standing in front of Jack Marshall like a mother bear protecting her cub. She was calm, although her face was red, yet she exuded a sense of righteous anger that seemed to radiate off of her.

 _She looks like a sodding tiger,_ he thought. She had always seemed so gentle to him, delicate. Now here she was, standing down a huge crowd of angry friends and acquaintances. It took balls, that did. He had, of course, known she must have had a backbone of steel to have gone through what she had in the past. But he had yet to see it, she saved all her smiles for him. Now he was seeing the iron behind it all. It filled him with a whole new respect for her.

Although it didn't make him any less frustrated with her.

Cursing under his breath, he walked over to her and gently yet firmly grabbed her arm at the elbow. "What do you think you're doing?" He hissed, "don't you have any sense of self preservation?"

She looked up at him and winked. "Not really, no. Did you know your accent comes out even stronger when you're angry? It's very arousing."

"You...what?" he asked, completely thrown off balance.

"He ought to be thrown in jail, right now!" someone from the crowd yelled. The murmur of voices grew louder, sounding like an angry swarm of bees.

"Everybody just calm down," Alec called out.

"He's a bloody pedo!" Someone else yelled.

"At least let him explain himself!" Rebecca retorted back angrily. "You've all known Jack for years, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves!"

"I'm not explaining myself to this lot," Jack piped up. "None of their business, is it?"

Marc Latimer stepped forward. "Would you explain it to me, Jack?" he asked quietly. "I've known you for years. He was my _son_." His voice was strained with emotion. "You at least owe me that."

Jack nodded to him, and Marc walked up and they began conversing quietly. Rebecca stood aside to let Alec join them. After a few minutes Marc clasped his hand on Jack's shoulder and turned to the waiting crowd.

"Go home lads," he said.

A couple of the men started to protest loudly, but Marc cut them off. "Go **home** lads," he repeated. "Everything's all right here."

They started to filter away, Marc nodded to Jack and headed back to his own car.

"I'll still need you to come up to the station later," Alec told Jack gently as Rebecca walked back over. Jack nodded wearily, reached over to squeeze Rebecca's hand, and headed back into his house.

Once he was gone, Rebecca bent over and breathed out heavily. "I'm glad that went okay. I was quite afraid it wouldn't, for a few minutes there."

"I wish you would be more careful," Alec said as they both crossed the yard and headed down the driveway.

"And I wish you would kiss me," she replied playfully. "I'm hoping at least one of our wishes will come true."

He growled and without hesitation pulled her to him, driven by instinct rather than any sane bit of logic. He crushed her lips to hers and his tongue met hers in a hot, tangled, clash of churning emotions. She moaned and bit his lip and he thought that if they didn't stop this kiss soon he was going to have her right then and there in the middle of the driveway.

As if sensing this, she pulled away, gracing him with a wry grin. "You better get back to work, Detective Inspector. Before someone throws a bucket of water on us."

He turned around. Luckily no one was paying them the slightest bit of attention. Everyone seemed to be trying their best to get back to the lives. He turned back to her, sighing regretfully. "I do need to get back to the station." He pointed a finger at her sternly. "But you need to be more careful. I was almost out of my mind with worry on the way over here."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention. I would have spared you that, if I could. But they were all lathering over him like rabid animals. I couldn't leave him to face that alone."

"Bollocks." He rubbed his eyes. "I don't know whether I want to have a row with you or shag you," he said breathlessly. "Dammit woman, you make my head a fucking confusing mess."

She smiled. "Does it make you feel any better to know that you do the same to me?"

His heart skipped, and he knew it had nothing to do with the arrhythmia. He allowed himself a small grin. "It does, yeah."

She nodded. "Good," she replied, turning and walking back to her car. She hesitated for a moment before turning back to Alec with a worried expression on her face. "You'll catch him, right?" she asked tentatively. "Before something else like this happens?"

He nodded. "I will. I promise."

Mollified she turned back and walked back to her car.

...

It was a promise, unfortunately, Alec couldn't keep.

The next morning Jack Marshall killed himself.

Alec and Ellie were the first on sight, at the beach where it had happened. He felt a growing sense of despair, that this was the second person this town had swallowed up. There was a ball of dread knotted in his stomach. He knew what he had to do next.

And he knew he had to be the one to do it.

He didn't bother to call, he just showed up at her flat, knocking on the door despite the early hour. She opened the door and stood there, in the same clothes she had been in yesterday and despite the state of her hair it was obvious that she had barely gotten any sleep.

"It's Jack, isn't it," she asked, her voice steady.

He nodded. "We found him this morning. It looks like he took his own life."

She continued to stand there for another moment before she started to fall. Alec's instincts kicked in an instant before and he caught her in his arms. She clung to him as sobs racked her body and he lowered them both to the floor. Alec knew how tightly she held her emotions to her heart, and that she allowed herself to break down in front of him, that she _trusted_ him that much, filled him with a sense of dizzying wonder. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head as her face was buried in his chest.

He wished more than anything he could take away every tear, every single moment of pain she was experiencing. It broke his own heart to watch her suffer.

That was the exact moment he realized that he loved her.

~*~ To be continued


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi everyone! Just wanted to make it known that at this point I'm going to be messing around a bit with the actual timeline of the series, just to make it work for my story. Just wanted to apologize for that. :) I'm hoping no one will mind too much, since I think it will make the story flow a bit better and we're getting close to the end anyhow. Only one more chapter after this one, guys! Thanks to all of you wonderful readers! Knowing you are reading and enjoying this story just makes me feel so special and loved! You're the best, guys! I appreciate you all so much! Thank you! 3**

Rebecca sighed and looked out the window listlessly. The shop had been slow so far this morning, which wasn't exactly unusual for a Thursday, although on _this_ particular Thursday she wished it was a bit busier to help keep her mind off things. It had been a week since Jack had died and three days since the funeral. She was still torn up over the whole affair, despite not being overly close with him. It was more of the whole injustice of the matter that was upsetting to her. To watch the town that had become so dear to her turn on one of its own so easily had been a jarring experiance. She wasn't going to pretend that he had been her best friend, that sort of hypocritical mourning was one thing that had always driven her crazy, but she did _miss_ Jack. When she had passed by his store the previous morning and saw the way it was dark and closed up, she felt as if a large heavy stone had formed in the pit of her stomach. She wondered how many more lives would be invariably changed before the murder investigation was solved.

And _speaking_ of said investigation...she looked at the time on her phone and repressed a sigh. She hadn't heard from Alec since the morning Jack had died. The morning she had completely humiliated herself and sobbed in the company of someone else. Something she had never done before. _Ever_. Even during all the mess with her parents and husband she had never allowed herself the luxury of showing deeper, more intense emotions to anyone. It just had never felt... _safe._ But at that moment with Alec, nothing had felt more right. And he hadn't run away screaming, or pulled away in alarm, which was what she had expected. Instead he had held her, comforted her. She, someone who had trouble expressing her innermost emotions to people, had broke down in front of someone. And not just anyone. _Alec_. Whom she had just realized that she loved. Rebecca rubbed her eyes wearily. She hadn't heard from him since then. Every time she called it would ring until she got to his voicemail. She didn't leave another message after the first. Logically, she knew he was up to his eyes in paperwork and that the longer the case dragged on the harder it would be to solve, and yet...it still somehow felt as if he were avoiding her.  
The front door to the shop flew open and slammed against the wall with a bang. Startled right out of her thoughts, she jumped upright, almost falling right off her stool behind the counter. She bit back a sigh of aggravation when she saw Becca Fisher carousing through the door. Couldn't the woman even open a door properly?

"Have you heard?" the blonde woman asked, nearly panting with excitement.

"Have I heard what?", Rebecca asked, not bothering to hide her frustration.

"They caught the bugger that killed Danny Latimer!"

"What?!" She couldn't have been more completely caught off guard. "They did? When? Who is it?"

"Just this morning. They're releasing a press conference tonight. It's Joe. Joe Miller."

Rebecca felt her throat tighten with anxiety. Ellie Miller's husband? It couldn't be. She remembered seeing her just a couple weeks ago, when this had all began. She thought of her kind and unassuming smile, her earnest desire to see Danny's killer brought to justice. "Poor Ellie," she whispered.

"I can't _believe_ it, can you?" Becca asked.

Rebecca looked at her, saw the false concern and the eagerness for gossip in the other woman's eyes, and it made her nauseous.

"I think I'm going to close up early for the day," she said quietly.

...

Later that night, curled up on her couch with a comforting mug of tea, she watched the official press release. It was brief, cut right to the heart of the matter, and still was in every way respectful to the Latimers. Ellie wasn't in it at all. She felt her heart lurch in sympathy. She couldn't even imagine the pain that she and her family were in. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing there was something she could do for them all. When she opened them again, she saw the dark brown of Alec's eyes on the telly screen. He looked tired but also relieved. It was over, she read it in his eyes. The case, despite it's heartbreaking revelations, was finally at an end.

She couldn't help but wonder what this meant for her and Alec. Was something ending between them? Or was it just beginning? Was he already looking forward to moving on, and continuing his life without her?

Against her better judgement she picked up her phone and tentatively dialed his number. It rang once and went right to voicemail.

...

It was late, but she couldn't sleep.

Every time she laid down in bed she found herself tossing and turning. She tired laying down on the couch which yielded similar results. Her mind was awhirl with distress over the way that the case had ended, and with worry about Alec. Was he taking care of himself? Why hadn't he called her, or reached out to her in some way? Unless this whole thing had been in her head and whatever emotions were involved only existed on her side in the first place. She covered her face with her hands and felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. Was that it? Had that been it all along? Did he begin to understand how she felt for him and, not wanting to shame her, decided to end it quietly and not cause a big fuss? She grit her teeth together. If that was the case she wasn't going to be that girl that groveled and begged and pleaded for another chance. It was bad enough she had called him as often as she did. She should have taken the hint after the first few days. Well, no more. She would survive. She would move on. Life would go back to the way it was before he came. But...that somehow just felt _wrong_ to her. What she felt when they were together, that had been _real_ , had been _true_. Could he really not have felt the same way?  
As she laid on the couch trying to sort out all her emotions she heard a soft knock on the door. She glanced at the clock on her phone. 1:30am. Who on earth would be...her heart skipped a beat. Hoping it was Alec, and then feeling immediately ridiculous for even harboring such a hope, she walked over to the door and looked out the peephole.

It was Ollie.

She opened the door. She wasn't sure if she was more disappointed or relieved to see that it wasn't Alec after all.

He strode through the doorway, immediately reading the disappointment on her face. "Expecting someone else, were you?" He said wryly. "A certain detective?" Despite his light tone, she could see the strain on his features, the weariness in his eyes. She remembered that Joe Miller was his uncle and felt a lurch of sympathy for him, for Ellie, for their whole family.

She put her hand on his shoulder. "How are you holding up, Ollie?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I'm alright, although my mum is a mess. And aunt Ellie..." He ran his hand through his hair. "She's laying low somewhere, hasn't contacted us other than to tell us that her and the boys are alright. I don't even know where she is."

The frustration in his voice was so palpable Rebecca was sure if she reached out she would have been able to grab it. "Can I get you anything?" she asked. "Would you like some tea? I could make you something to eat if you're hungry?"

Ollie blinked and looked at her, as if suddenly remembering where he was. "No, I'm...No. I'm not hungry. And that isn't why I'm here anyway. I needed to talk to you. There's something you need to know."

She folded her arms across her chest, trying to dispel the sudden chill that gripped her. "Something **I** need to know? What's going on, Ollie?"  
"I wouldn't normally come over this late," he stammered as if he hadn't heard her. "But I couldn't stop thinking about...you know, and I really needed to get my mind off it. So I'm sorry that I didn't wait until morning."

She nodded. "It's okay, honestly. I couldn't sleep anyway."

He looked at her and his eyes came back into focus. "Look," he started, " I know that you and detective Hardy are involved."

 _If being involved means he absolutely drives me crazy then by all means, yes, we're involved!_ she thought. "I'm not at liberty to say," she said carefully. She still wasn't exactly sure how much of their relationship Alec wanted to keep private. If they still were even in a relationship.

Ollie raised an eyebrow at her. "You two were seen a lot of places together recently. But then this week, since Jack...you guys haven't been seen together at all."

She threw up her hands in disgust. "Goddamn this small town gossip!"

"Stop, calm down a second," he said gently. "It was actually a _good_ thing that I had heard about you two, since you were the first one I thought of once I was done talking to him."

"Talking to _who_ Ollie?"

"Hardy. Detective Hardy. He stopped by last night and gave us a private exclusive about the previous case he had worked on. Sandbrook, remember? That was the case that really trashed his reputation."

Her heart lurched sadly. _Oh, Alec,_ she thought, _That must not have been easy for you._ While he had never spoken to her about the specifics of the case, she knew it still haunted him with a grief that he continued to carry with him. But she couldn't understand how this related to her and why Ollie had felt the need to tell her right away.

"Anyway," Ollie continued, "he gave us a private interview, and he doesn't want us to release it to the public right away, but..." he looked at her. "You know how fast information travels."

She thought of Becca Fisher's face when she was running her mouth earlier and felt a hot flash of anger. "Yes," she said. "I love this town, Ollie, but I do hate the gossip and the way it gets around."

He nodded, and then hesitated. "This detective...does he mean a lot to you?" he asked.

Rebecca didn't know how to answer. She thought of the lean sinewy slopes and curves of his body and the way the air turned electric when they were standing close to each other. She thought of his slow smile, and the way his eyes brightened when he was relaxed. She thought of his raspy, voice, thick with that brogue accent when he was frustrated or exasperated. She thought of the way he kissed, and how when she wasn't with him she was thinking about him. She thought about how she wanted him to be happy more than she wanted anything else, and the way her heart had warmed when she realized that she loved him. She smiled "Yes," she said softly. "I would say that yes, he means quite a great deal to me."

He looked relieved, as if pleased to finally reach the conclusion that he had made the right decision in coming to see her. "I think it's important that you know about this first...in case it makes a difference."

Rebecca's stomach clenched painfully with worry. But she was resolved to make the best of this information...no matter what it was. "Make yourself comfortable," she said to Ollie, smiling softly. "I'll make us a cuppa and then you can tell me all about it."

~*~ To be continued


	10. Chapter 10

**Well guys, this is it! The last hurrah for our awkward romantic heroes, Alec and Rebecca. Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing and for all the love you guys have given me for this story. I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart! 3**

Without bothering to change into regular clothes Rebecca dashed out of her flat wearing only what she had on while she had been trying to go to sleep; cotton shorts and a tank top, although she did stop long enough to quickly throw on a pair of sandels. She took a few seconds to lock the door behind her before racing down the boulevard. Her feet pounding against the concrete echoed loudly across the empty streets, the lamplights throwing slices of light through the shadows. Her heart slammed in her chest wildly as she tried to think of what she should say to Alec. Ollie's words had been a revelation to her, an affirmation that all these jumbled pieces that had seemed so confusing to her actually somehow really made sense. _I really owe him one_ , she thought as she turned the corner, not breaking her stride. He had broken all kinds of professional ethics by bringing her information before it hit the presses. She would forever be grateful to him for doing so. A plethora of scenarios ran through her mind as she ran. Now that she _knew_ , what should she say? What was the best way to approach this?

She only had a half formed plan formed in her head by the time she reached the hotel where Alec was staying. She walked through the lobby, ignoring Becca's glance at what she was wearing.

"What room is Detective Hardy staying in?" she asked breathlessly.

Becca's eyebrows flew up so high on her forehead they almost seemed to disappear. "218", she said.

Not wanting to get trapped in a conversation with endless questions fueled by prurient nosiness, Rebecca nodded to the other woman briskly and headed to the stairs.

...

She knocked on the door twice before he answered. Despite the late hour it looked as if Alec had gotten as much sleep as she did. He was still in his work clothes, his tie loosened and askew. His hair was even more ruffled than usual. She resisted the urge to reach up and tidy it with her fingers. He looked surprised to see her.

"Rebecca?" he asked, as if he was unsure that it was really her.

"May I come in, Alec?" she asked quietly.

He stepped aside to let her pass.

She walked into the room and looked around. It was the first time she The bed was made and looked as if it hadn't been touched for days. Aside from a coat flung haphazardly on the back of a chair and a smattering of papers spread out across the small end table, the room looked barely lived in. The window was open and a night breeze was blowing through the room. She rubbed her arms, trying to dispel goosebumps. She turned to see him leaning with his back against the door. He wouldn't look at her.

She suddenly felt overly self-conscious in her tank top and shorts, and that it was in the middle of the night. She folded her arms across her chest and cleared her throat shyly. Despite her initial exuberance when she had left her flat she now found herself not knowing where to begin. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his heart medication peeking out from underneath some of the papers in the desk and remembered why she was there. _I love him_ , she thought. _I love him and he needs to know. And if he doesn't feel the same way...at least he'll know the truth, and we can both move on with our lives instead of being stuck in this hellish limbo_.

"Did you watch the press conference?" he asked suddenly, his voice raspy.  
Startled, she replied, "Yes, I did. It was heartbreaking."

"It's not over yet," he said. "There's still the trial." He finally turned his gaze to her, his brown eyes dark with unasked questions. "And then I suppose I'll be leaving."

She looked at him. The silence seemed to be loud with unspoken words.

"Alec..." she started to say. And then she faltered. She had almost expected him to be angry with her for barging in on him so late. But he didn't look mad at all, he looked...almost nervous. As if she had come here to deliver some kind of bad news. As if...she had come here to _hurt_ him in some way. In that moment he looked so uncharacteristically vulnerable that it was all she could do to keep from running into his arms. "Ollie came to see me tonight," she said. "He told me about...what you had told him earlier...about Sandbrooke."

"Bloody journalists," he grumbled.

"No," she said, "I'm glad he did. It helped to really put things in perspective for me."

He raised an eyebrow at her, looking skeptical.

She took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing,_ she thought. "Look," she said, "I know we haven't known each other for very long. And I also know that this has been moving fast, probably faster than what you're used to, and _definitely_ faster than what I'm used to..." She knew she was rambling, but she couldn't seem to stop. The dark intensity of his eyes seemed to urge her on.

"And..." she continued hesitantly, "I know that you've been keeping your distance lately, and at first I thought that it was because of _me_ , that it was something I did. But after talking with Ollie, I realize that it's not that at all."  
"So what is it about then?" He asked.

"I know what happened. During the Sandbrooke case...and how you were betrayed and hurt by the one you cared about the most."

Alec opened his mouth to speak but she continued on before he could interrupt her. "I just want you to know that I would never do that to you, Alec. I never _could_ do that to you."

"And how could you even possibly say that?" He scoffed. His tone was light but she could see his body was taut with tension, as if he were hanging on to her every word.

"Because I love you," she said simply.

Time seemed to slow down, and then stop completely. The moment hung in the air between them, thick and heavy, like honey. It vibrated on her tongue and in her fingertips. She didn't know whether she should leave or stay. She felt rooted to the spot. She wasn't sure she could move even if she wanted to.  
With a noise that was halfway between a groan and a growl he crossed the room and grabbed her, taking her into his arms roughly. She let out a gasp of surprise as he pulled her against his chest. He crushed his lips against hers and she felt herself respond without hesitation, snaking her arms around him and sinking her nails into his back as she clenched him to her harder.

"I love you too," he whispered fiercely against her lips. "God knows I've tried not to, fought it like hell, but I just can't seem to stop."

Her tongue darted in his mouth, effectively silencing him. She could feel his heart hammering against her chest; their wild and erratic beats almost in rhythm to each other. Grasping for one shred of rational thought before sinking into oblivion she gasped out, "Your heart...are you...is this...okay?"  
He let out a strangled bark of a laugh. "That's the last thing you need to worry about. My heart can handle you, can handle _this_ , just fine."

She relaxed, finally giving up that last bit of logic and allowing herself to take pleasure in the situation. Grinning wickedly, she sank her teeth into his lower lip, delighting in the rough moan the action elicited. He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her roughly over to the edge of the bed. He ran the backs of his hands over the flimsy material of her tank top, feeling the hardened buds of her nipples. Rebecca pushed herself against him, trying to gain more friction. She mewled in frustration when he pulled away.

He looked down at her, his eyes full of wonder and lust. "You're too beautiful to be real," he said.

Her heart soared. Oh, how she loved this man! He was almost too good to be true. "I'll show you how real I am," she said breathlessly as she tugged at his tie. As she hastily undid the buttons of his shirt he pulled her tank top off of her, lowering his head to place fevered kisses and bites across her chest.

She fell back on the bed as she pulled off her shorts, watching Alec surreptitiously pulling off his pants. She let out a laugh of pure delight. Was there anything as amazing as this? This frantic desire to be close to another human being? As close as possible.

And then he was on top of her. In a tangled mess of heat and flesh and limbs. He was hard where she was soft. Rebecca could barely tell where she ended and he began. She was wet and ready as soon as he had first touched her. When he was finally inside her she felt complete for the first time in her life.

"I'm sorry," he gasped out. "I had pictured that a lot slower, more romantic."

She smiled languidly. "Honey, there's _plenty_ of time for romance."

"There is?" he asked, pleased.

He still sounded slightly wary, as if waiting for the bubble of joy they just shared to pop. Rebecca smiled to herself. She had a lifetime to cherish this man, to make him feel beloved.

"Oh yes," she said as she leaned over to kiss him. "The night's still young, and if you think I'm going to let you sleep at all tonight, you're sorely mistaken."

...

The trial was scheduled for a date two weeks away. While the town was still recovering from the shock and betrayal over what had happened, at least it was no longer holding its breath. Though it would be a slow and painful process, everyone was healing. The healing wasn't restricted to Broadchurch residents however. For the first time in a _very_ long time, Alec found that he was able to breathe easier. He woke up without feeling any hint of despair.

It was remarkable.

It was a week before the trial. They were standing in her flat's tiny kitchen. He watched her as she filled a clear vase with flowers. The afternoon sunlight poured in from the window, creating a dappled pattern of gold across the wall.

"Well," Alec said as he tugged his ear absentmindedly. "Since the case has been solved the department stopped paying for my room. At the hotel."

"Is that so?" Rebecca asked, feigning disinterest as she straightened out the stalks of flowers.

"Yeah," he said. "And I doubt I could afford to stay there for too long after the trial. Worst cop in Britain, me. Don't pay me a lot, do they?"

She paused. She knew what she wanted to ask him but at the same time she was desperately afraid of frightening him. "Well," she said slowly, "you could stay here...with me."

He looked around, raising his eyebrow in disbelief. "What, in this tiny place? We'd be practically on top of each other."

She grinned, despite herself. "And would that really be a bad thing?"

He turned red. "Well, no...it wouldn't."

She bit her lip, smiling at him.

He looked at her, the gleeful expression on her face teasing a small smile from his lips. "Won't we get on each other's nerves?"  
"Most likely, yeah," she conceded.

"And you're going to love every minute of it, aren't you?"

"Yup. Aren't you?"

He smiled then, one of those rare, joyous smiles that made her heart feel like it was being filled with warm, molten gold.

"Absolutely," he said.

She let out a small whoop of happiness as she threw her arms around his neck and raised her lips to his. He slid his arms around her and she felt his hands grip her tight as they kissed.

As if he would never let her go.

~*~ Finis


End file.
